The Carrot or The Stick Method
by drippingwithsin
Summary: Torture or nurture which one will break the golden girl?...or will they both play a part in her destruction?
1. The Cycle Begins

**AN:** Well, whereas my other story is humorous and a bit soft this one here is its total complete opposite. Also I got the second chapter to this nearly ready. ha

 **Warning:** Torture, lots and lots of torture. No rape though. Not going to have that in this story if anything like that happens it'll be dub-con at the most. (not a fan of gross non-con)

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

Blood cooled, slowed, and crusted within the frigid dank basement air as it trickled lazily down an alabaster thigh onto the rest of the leg, sticking and irritating the skin in its path enough to alert the owner of its existence. Leaning heavily against a damp stone wall, Hermione Granger sucked in a breath through gritted teeth to steel herself at the horrors that might be found before daring a glance downward. It was a stab wound; not at all as horrific as she'd anticipated but Hermione of all people knew that looks could be deceiving. After all she'd seen with her own eyes just how long and unforgiving the particular blade was that caused this. If that was any indication then this wound ran deep through muscle perhaps even bone.

She found it rather humorous really, that she was just now aware of stab wound that occurred hours ago. How was that even remotely possible? How does one not know when they've been bloody stabbed? She snorted at her own musings then her expression went monotone once again. Perhaps, she was the one going/ is mad here and not her captor. She shivered for two different reasons. One, due to the bone aching chill. The other, at the mere thought of becoming like her.

No, thankfully she wasn't quite at that level of madness-yet. However, she knew it was only a matter of time before it sank its unforgiving tendrils deep into her mind. Turning her brilliance into chaos.

Well, perhaps she'll be rescued before it came to that or perhaps not. She startled out of her inner musings when the door to the dungeon is opened and closed. No, not again, not her she scurried backwards to the farthest corner of the cell and curled into a tight protective ball. But to her astonishment, it was not the dark witch of her nightmares who appears, but her sister, Narcissa.

She glided over to the jail cell and did something Hermione thought she'd ever witness; the pureblood elite crouched down.

"Come here, child." Was ordered and Hermione knew from a rather painful experience(s) what happened when one disobeyed so she crawled like a cautious canine over to the older woman.

Blood red lips quirked into a pleased smile.

"Good girl."

Hermione felt a soft hand pet her on the head and she hated, no, loathed the warmth that spread throughout her body from the action. It'd been so long since she felt a touch that didn't cause her any pain.

"Please, let me go." She begged, her chocolate eyes round and big shimmering with unshed tears.

Hermione was hushed gently.

"There's a good girl." Manicured nails began to scratch at her scalp.

The girl whimpered as she leaned farther into the touch and closed her eyes.

* * *

"Wakey, Wakey, mudblood." Hermione's eyelids snapped open only to be greeted by a hyena-like grin and onyx orbs glinting with malicious intent.

"Morning, muddy, I got a little surprise for you today." Bellatrix cooed as a large burning brand appeared in her hand.

"No!" Hermione's face was once more covered in tears from a mixture of absolute terror and the effects of being strangled. Hermione could feel the heat radiating off the brand onto her exposed skin. She tried to slide away from it and plea for whatever forgiveness was needed, but it was all fruitless.

Hermione could only sit there, bleeding and wracked with pain, sobbing weakly into soiled flooring.

* * *

"Come here, sweet girl."

The older witch was crouched down in the centre of the cell with her hand held out as if trying to coax a skittish dog from its hiding hole.

Hermione glanced at the offered limb before darting her eyes wildly around the room, suspicious of every shadow. Bellatrix may be hiding in one after all. Anxiously waiting to leap out and torture her again.

"Come on." The beautiful elegant woman coaxed and Hermione couldn't help but think briefly of how strange she appeared in this filthy place.

Hermione whimpered pathetically before weakly crawling over to the woman. Narcissa smiled at her as she reached out slowly and began to pet matted curls.

"Good girl."

* * *

Pain exploded through Hermione's body as a tip of a boot slammed into her rips.

"Get up, get up, get up! You stupid girl!"

The girl groaned as her groggy mind struggled to regain consciousness. She must have taken too long to comply because the next thing she knew she was being yanked upward and slammed face first into the wall.

"Undress." The dark witch said in a tone which did not invite disobedience.

Thoughts of viciously being raped and torn apart from the inside flashed through her mind and Hermione began to sob. "Please, no."

"Undress!"

"Please!" She shouted out desperation thick in her voice.

"Crucio." The word was muttered yet it cut through the air like a stiletto. She slammed down onto the floor her body writhing in agony as the curse invaded her system.

Hermione whimpered pathetically but complied and started to strip. The blouse was the first to go followed by the bra and as stepped from her skirt she stood there in just her panties.

"Brace yourself against the wall, muddy." Came a command that left no room for disobedience.

The brunette's throat tightened as she did what she was told. She closed her tightly with tears trickling down her filthy cheeks. Her body already teasing in dreaded anticipation.

A whoosh through the air and something came down across the girl's back with a sickening crack causing Hermione to scream out in agony as the thin piece of leather ripped open her flesh. Blood instantly sprang to the surface, seeping from the gash.

"That's right, muddy. Scream for me. Scream for your mistress." Bellatrix raised her hand again, and rained down lash upon lash, eliciting pained shrieks from the girl.

Hermione tried to say something then, but Bellatrix cut her off with another crack of the whip."You will learn your place, you filthy mudblood!"

Another lashing and another yelp followed by another and another and another.

* * *

A short while later the rusted metal hinges on the jail cell door screeched in protest causing Hermione to painfully tense her muscles in dreaded anticipation only to have them relax nearly immediately when a familiar, albeit welcome silhouette appeared in the pale candlelight.

"P-Please... My back..." Hermione begged. The open air like another whip inflicting more pain upon her body. "Make it stop..."

"Shh, hush now. I'm here."

Hermione was gently soothed seconds before a wave of magic washed over her. A grateful sigh escaped as instant relief overcame the pain.

"That's a good girl." Fingers combed through her matted hair as she felt herself drift off into a dreamless slumber.

* * *

Hermione slumped bonelessly against the wall, panting heavily with several burn marks and cuts covering her body. Blood trickled out of the lacerations and coloured her alabaster skin a sickly red. Above her stood Bellatrix with a blood-drenched stiletto grasped within her hand, looking with something akin to admiration at Hermione's mangled body.

The girl could no longer cry, not for lack of trying, but her tears had dried up hours or was it days ago.

"Beautiful, but it's missing something, isn't it?" Bellatrix cupped her chin and hummed as if in deep thought. "Oh, I know." The dark witch grinned manically, putting away the dagger only to have that accursed whip appear in her hand.

"Let's try something different though, shall we?"

She flicked the wrist of the hand clutching the whip and suddenly the leather blazed to life with sickly green flames. Hermione gazed upward, her one good eye pleading for mercy to which the dark witch ignored, bringing the whip down hard against the limp body.

A pained yell and adding another layer to the smell of singed skin still lingering within the air.

* * *

As time passed by, Hermione could feel herself beginning to drift into unconsciousness, her exhausted body only wanting to rest, until the sound of the jail cell door, snapping her focus back to her surroundings. Hermione curled herself into a little ball. A touch on her shoulder made her jump.

"No." She whimpered curling into herself further.

"Shh, I have you, little one. She's not here." The hand on her shoulder begun to caress her. "Turn over onto your stomach."

Hearing the familiar voice of Narcissa, Hermione slumped in relief before weakly doing as she was commanded.

"Good girl." Something cold and liquid was poured onto her wounds, soothing them instantly. Hermione groaned relief and pressed her forehead against the cold stone flooring.

* * *

"Crucio."

Hermione's back arched so far off the floor she could hear the bones in her vertebra pop over the screams. It felt as though her body was being burned from the inside out whilst being stabbed by numerous surgical knives.

"Good morning, muddy. Did you miss me?" Bellatrix stepped out of the shadows, plump crimson lips tugged upward into a devious smirk. "Crucio, crucio, crucio!" She surged more power into each one, cackling maniacally as the girl writhed in agony.

* * *

Narcissa seemingly materialized from the gloom, carrying a glass test tube of purple liquid. She glided over and crouched down holding it to the girl's cracked bloodied lips. "Drink."

Hermione lolled her head to the side and clamped her mouth shut, denying the potion entry.

"Drink."

"No...wa...to..die." Hermione weakly admitted surprising herself more than the witch above her who's eyes widened just a fraction. She never thought she'd be the suicidal type. After all, she was(is) a lion for heaven shakes. She was supposed to be brave and bold but now all she wanted, really wanted, was an end. An end to all of this. This constant torture and pain not to mention loneliness. Though for a few weeks now the last one wasn't so horrible since Narcissa for some unknown reason decided to began mothering her. Not that the brunette minded it was a welcome relief in this hell hole. Even if at the back of her mind something was screaming at her that this behaviour was far worse than any form of torture she was dealt.

Hermione decided not to dwell on it though. It was too late to fret over such things. There was no more hope and Harry and Ron obviously weren't going to burst through the doors on white horses to whisk her away. She'd be gone soon enough. "Open your mouth, girl."

The brunette shook her head and winced when she felt a hand roughly grab her chin and force her head straight until she was peering into the very peeved eyes of Narcissa Malfoy.

"Open it I say."

Another shake of the head followed by nails digging into Hermione's skin.

Fingers pinched her nose cutting off the oxygen until she was forced to gasp. As soon as her lips parted, however, a bitter healing potion was poured down her throat causing her to sputter and buck.

"There's a good girl. Drink it all up." Narcissa cooed, rubbing at Hermione's larynx as she forced the girl to swallow all of the liquid. Once it was all gone the older witch banished the empty tube and begun to pet the girl's hair like one would do a cat all the while humming a soothing tune.

Not even second later, Hermione's foggy chocolate eyes rolled back into her head as she fell unconscious.

* * *

She could feel the skin along her back give and release as a blade was sliced through over and over. Hung high above the floor with her wrists bound by chains gravity took its toll on the wounds making the hot blood bubbling from them to trickle downward only to splattered against the floor in heavy drops.

Bellatrix hummed as she carved into her, enjoying the way the crimson fluid glinted in the candlelight as it trickled lazily down pale skin. "You bleed so prettily, mudblood."

The dark witch leaned forward and licked away a drop, moaning as a familiar metallic flavour burst upon her tongue. She simply must have more.

Hermione gasped sharply at the feel of the appendage lapping at her wounds. "Ple..please st..stop."

"Not before we get you cleaned up, muddy." Bellatrix stated with a giggle as she conjured up a large washtub filled with water underneath the girl.

Looking down at the water, Hermione felt her gut twist in dreaded anticipation. "No..no."

Bellatrix merely smirked and waved her wand, releasing Hermione from the chains. The girl plummeted with a shriek, hitting the frigid water below with an enormous splash. As the water hit her cuts, Hermione screamed underneath the surface and jolted upward sputtering and scrambling to get out only to be pushed back in by Bellatrix.

"Ahh." She cried out to the heavens as the water washed over her fresh cut, rapidly turning the once translucent liquid into a rustic brown.

"Oh calm down, muddy. It's just a bit o' saltwater to help with your wounds." The dark witch explained whilst she crouched by the tub, making sure the girl stayed put.

"Please, let me out." Hermione pleaded, shakily trying to stand. It burned. Gods it burned so much. "I'll do anything you want just-"

"Ah, ah, ah, muddy." Bellatrix flicked her wand pushing the girl into the water and laughed a bit as another shriek rang out. "Gotta get you clean, girl. Can't have all that mud tarnishing the flooring now, can we?"

She childishly splashed the sobbing girl and cackled.

* * *

The darkness was sinking in.

Death's icy cold hands were beginning to take hold.

Down…

Down…

Down...

Hermione felt herself descend pass the point of no return.

Unable to move, weak from blood loss, and dizzy from lack of food she merely laid there limply when she heard the door open followed by the soft pad of footsteps.

Something pressed against her pulse point for a moment then moved away only to cup Hermione's cheek, caressing her there.

"Mummy, Mummy, I want to go home." She rasped her tone far younger than her years.

* * *

"How is she?"

"Broken, but alive."

A pleased smile in the darkness. Now the training intensives.

 **TBC...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning:** Torture, copious amounts of blood, madness, slight mention of child molestation and incest.

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Tucked away in a locked room on the desolate third floor, Hermione stood near the window and peered out at the vast fields surrounding where ever she was now. Or so she appeared to be, truthfully it wasn't the lush green pastures or rolling hills that grasped her attention. No, that honour lie with the stranger staring back at her.

Gaunt cheeks, greasy hair, and two endless black pits.

Where had that little girl from London gone? The muggle one whom pirated books from her father's study, played zoo/veterinarian with all her stuffed animals and curled underneath a layer of blankets whilst being lured to sleep by the soothing rumble of her mother's voice.

Hermione tried desperately to locate her, but it was all for nought. That little girl was gone; chipped away by whetstones made up of whips, words, and odd shows of affections.

Crippling angst crashed down heavily on her heart upon realization. She'd never be the same again.

Once when she was _that_ little girl, Hermione recalled coming upon an enormous tawny and white heifer laid sprawled out onto her side by a roadside fence, grey tongue lolled out and body bloated the creature stared into the distance with glazed pitch eyes unseeing. And it was those eyes; those same awful eyes that were now looking back at her.

Hermione shivered and darted her gaze elsewhere. Perhaps some things were best left unseen. After all, she could always pretend that the little girl from London still existed if only she remained blinded by everything.

* * *

"Cruico." Ice wrapped in velvet the word slipped from pink lips without the slightest hesitation.

Screams of agony and the sharp clanking of metal against concrete shattered the darkness.

This had been going on for the better part of an hour, yet no relief seemed in sight for the poor individual chosen to be the test dummy to a student's wand. Head tilted to the side and face blank, Hermione stood over the prone form of a man, her warm chocolate eyes long since dulled to an emotionless muddled brown watched with disinterest as he writhed in pain.

She kept him under until her mistress ordered her to release. Once she did he gasped in breaths as if she'd just saved him from drowning. Though now that she idly thought about it perhaps she did. Hermione felt a tiny twinge of sympathy. Poor pathetic soul, little did he know he'd soon be thrust back into the waves.

"Again," Came a command from behind punctuated by the crack of a whip.

Hermione did not hesitant, her mistress' word was law and one she could do nothing but obey. "Crucio." His back arched dramatically and head whipped back against the filthy concrete floor.

"More power." Another whip crack.

She sent another surge of magic empowering the crucious curse. Form begun to bubble from the corners of his mouth and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"More," Was screeched.

Hermione gritted her teeth and obeyed, sending yet another wave through the line. The curse now at its maximum level raged through the man's body like lava destroying and liquefying his innards until they were pouring from every orifice filling the entire room with the sickening combined scents of blood, piss, and shite.

A pleased grin from behind and a cruel voice curled around her ear. "Good girl."

The phrase sent a pleasant chill up the girl's spine and she had to fight ruthlessly to keep a small smile at bay. She'd finally pleased her dark mistress. All was right with the world now.

She was complete.

* * *

 _"Once upon a time, there were four little Rabbits, and their names were-Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter. They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree."Now, my dears," said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, "you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor. Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out."_

 _Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns. Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries; But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed under the gate!"_

Narcissa read onward, her voice in that low soothing tone all mothers used when reading their child a bedtime story. Hermione sighed contentedly as she burrowed herself farther into the elder witch's lap and wrapped her arms around skirt covered legs. The ivory haired witch smiled as she petted the matted hair.

* * *

Pale candlelight illuminated the entire dungeon in a sickly glow that was just bright enough where one could see but not so bright In the centre of the room a man's limp body dangled from the ceiling by rusted chains. His clothes ripped, caked with dried blood and mud hung from his limbs in tore rags exposing his equally filthy skin.

A handle of a dagger was thrust into Hermione's right hand. "Go on, puppy, paint Auntie Bellatrix a pretty picture." The dark witch encouraged enjoying the power she held over the mudblood.

Hermione just stood there for a moment staring down at the weapon. The blade twisted and moulded into that of a dragon's tail glinted maliciously back at her. Beautiful yet hungry. Oh so hungry; for flesh, for blood, for life. It almost pleaded with her to feed it.

A sharp push snapped Hermione out of inner thoughts. "Well, go on then you stupid girl. We haven't got all night."

She walked forward, face emotionless, and dagger halfway up. If her mistress demanded a pretty picture then she shall receive a masterpiece.

"Please, please, don't, Herm-" Ear piercing screeches and the familiar rustic smell of copper filled the room.

* * *

Hermione sat motionless with her knees drawn up to her chin as a wet washcloth was ran repeatedly over her back. The motion combined with the heat of the material and that of the water did wonders and the brunette felt herself doing something she hadn't done in months. Relax.

Above perched on the edge of the tub, Narcissa smiled fondly down at the girl. "That's it, that's a good girl." She cooed and began to hum a lullaby she'd learned from her own mother when she was but a girl. Of course back then it was done a little too close to her ear whilst a hand 'caressed' her hair a bit too harshly to be comforting.

Eyelids shut on their own accord as Narcissa's mind drifted. She could still the smell of firewhiskey upon her mother's breath and feel the icy cold touch slip beneath the covers to other places.

 _"You look so much like him." It slid even lower to where a mother's touch was never supposed to go venture in that manner. "So, so much like him."_

Lost in thought, Narcissa was unaware that she'd ceased all movements until a whine yanked her to the present and down to two puzzled dark eyes. "Hush now, sweet child, I am here."

* * *

Red.

The colour blinded chocolate eyes before coating slightly trembling hands and lips with its warm sticky wetness. A tongue darted out to mop the mess and Hermione moaned when a burst of copper filled her mouth. Satisfaction was indeed sweet.

Gasping and gurgling followed by a loud thump. Death was so swift and easy. Humans thought themselves Gods when compared to other creatures, but if they were honest truly completely honest with themselves they'd admit to being as fragile

Hermione thrust the stiletto down once more, not really aiming for anything in particular. The man jolted as he screamed and she just smiled and smiled. Oh, what fun it was to keep someone on the very cusp of death.

Killing someone in this way, the way of her people, was such a tedious task, yet her mistress for all her disdain on the matter revelled in it. The more brutal and gory the better. So with some newly acquired friends, sharp and shiny, Hermione cut, bleed, and plundered whomever she was led to.

 _Red_

 _Scarlet_

 _Crimson_

 _Black_

Beautiful simply beautiful.

She twisted the blade viciously in a thick shoulder muscle and just carelessly yanked it out. Snarling in victor as drops of copper sprayed across her face.

Her dark mistress let out a shriek of laughter and this time she joined her.

* * *

Nervously shifting from one foot to the next as she darted her eyes wildly, Hermione stood in the entryway of the Malfoy Manor not wishing for the first time that day that she was anywhere else but here. Days of being confined in total darkness and endless torture sessions had taken their toll. She no longer felt safe in such a wide open space. There was no place to hide out here-no place safe. Unconsciously she took a half a step back only to bump into something warm and solid.

A tinkling laugh and a gentle nudge. "Well, go on, little one."

The girl braced herself and shook her head violently. She couldn't do it. It was too much. There could be something dangerous out there, hidden in the brush awaiting to gobble her up.

"Go on now, I'm right here." Another push, this one done with a bit more force.

Hermione whimpered pathetically then turned and buried her head against the other woman's shoulder, trembling.

Narcissa rubbed the girl's heaving back and let out a small amused laugh. "Oh now, now, dear heart, there's nothing to be frightened of." The older woman cooed as she pried the younger from her person and walked around her toward the exit.

The girl pivoted and her chocolate eyes widened with horror when Narcissa suddenly stepped outside. Didn't ma'am know of the dangers that lie in wait out there?

Narcissa glided into the middle of the garden the rare sunny day illuminating her in its warm hues seemed to breathe life into icy depths. In Hermione's eyes, she appeared as a golden statue of Athena come to life to spy on the mere mortals who claim her name. The older woman closed her eyes tightly, inhaled deeply then opened them. She locked gazes with the younger and smiled warmly as spread her arms wide. "See there is nothing to fear."

Hermione hesitantly stepped out into the sunshine whilst keeping an ever watchful eye on Narcissa.

One wary step led to two then onward and so forth until finally, she was in her ma'am's strong arms.

The older witch wrapped them tightly around her and laughed musically. "I told you, dear heart."

They stood like that for a moment before Narcissa finally pulled away.

"Now go. Explore." She commanded as she took a few steps back.

At the sudden absence of her protector, Hermione felt dread churn her stomach, but it was soon stomped down when she noticed Narcissa hadn't really gone anywhere and was standing a mere stone throw away. Another reassuring smile was sent her way.

"Go on. Enjoy it whilst you can."

Finally satisfied that she was truly safe, Hermione grinned and slowly twirled in the sunshine as she drank in the various flowers that surrounded her. A child lost in the wilds of Wonderland. Her eyes twinkled and honeyed curls twirled lost in the beautiful madness, but had not a care.

Nearby sapphire irises sparkled with both mirth and fondness. The girl was coming along nicely, but there were still so many lessons yet to be learnt. Narcissa pondered on the matter unaware that two stories up and peering through a portal of condensation, another witch was having the very same thoughts.

 **TBC...**

* * *

 **AN:** Hope you enjoyed. Thoughts and prompts(only femslash) are welcome. Rudeness, however, will be either ignored or deleted. I warn though I know Harry Potter fandom readers rarely are. Thank goodness for the maturity of Potterheads, ha...The reason why Hermione's so gone is like I said in the first chapter she's been there a while. I kind of skipped over her talking back and whatnot. Kind of thought it would be a nice change than the smart mouth then torture, smart mouth then torture cycle most do.


End file.
